


Changes

by Ironic_Swag7782



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hance - Freeform, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Pining Hunk (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Voltron Whump Week, Whump, i hate tags help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironic_Swag7782/pseuds/Ironic_Swag7782
Summary: Late at night, Hunk finds a friend in Coran.AKA Hunk is an anxious pining cinnamon roll and Coran does his best.





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this, it's a little short.

Prompt: Mental illness/insomnia 

Wordcount: 743

Characters: Hunk Garrett, Lance McClain

Ship: Hance

Title: Things are Different Now

 

Hunk sighs, splaying his hands out on the side in the kitchen. Without meaning to, his thoughts stray back to a certain someone sleeping just next door to him. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t do anything, they were friends and Hunk couldn’t – wouldn’t – risk ruining that. He was sure Lance would hate him if he tried. 

So instead he’d taken to stress-baking. No one had questioned why plates and plates of food had shown up overnight, although he did notice a few concerned looks thrown in his direction, first and foremost from Lance. 

He sighs again, leaning on the kitchen side. He hates it, but he is tired, and does want to go back to his bed, but he feels if he does…he’ll just think of Lance again. He’ll start worrying again, and the anxiety would rear its head again.

So instead, he simply opens the oven, gives the glass-like cookies another poke, and sits on the kitchen side. 

“Is someone in here?” He hears a familiar voice call, cautiously. He’d recognise that Australian, almost British accent anywhere. Coran. 

“Coran?” He breathes, careful. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?” 

“No, my boy, I heard a noise and I was simply worried.” Coran assures him. “Are you okay in here?” 

Hunk starts to nod, before catching himself halfway through. He drops his head, shaking it just a fraction. 

“I…guess not…” 

“Oh, Hunk, it’ll be okay.” Coran says, though clearly, he has no idea what he’s comforting Hunk about. 

“Sorry, it’s just my anxiety, it plays up sometimes and I have trouble sleeping. And what with Lance…” 

“Anksiety?” Coran echoes, giving Hunk a questioning look. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that.” 

“It just means I tend to work myself up worrying, and I overthink little things. Things most people wouldn’t worry about.” 

“Oh, I believe we had something similar in Altea.” Coran drops his voice. “It was a problem amongst even our best soldiers.” 

“Seriously?” Hunk isn’t entirely sure why it shocks him. He knows anyone can get it, just…he doesn’t know that. Sometimes he had a hard time accepting that he wasn’t to blame for his own mental illness. “Did you know anyone personally?” 

“A friend’s son had it terribly. There were some days where he wouldn’t – no, couldn’t – leave the bed. He…He’s gone now…” 

Hunk wraps one arm round Coran’s shoulders, and for a second, neither speaks. Hunk doesn’t know what to say – normally, he’s good with comforting, good with words, but for some reason this is different. This is grief that can’t be put in a room, that can’t be comprehended easily. This is grief for a whole planet, grief for a life they once had. Coran was there from the beginning, after all – Hunk couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to lose a whole planet, a whole civilisation like that. 

“I am sorry, Hunk. I did not intend to change the topic.” Coran apologises. 

“No, no, man, don’t do that.” Hunk begs. “Lance does the same thing. He undermines himself a lot. I wish he wouldn’t.” 

Coran is suddenly silent, seemingly in deep thought. Hunk stares at him for a minute, wondering what was going through his mind. He found it funny, because the face he was pulling was the exact same face he pulled when Lance was trying to explain a meme to him.

“Hunk, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Shoot for it.” 

“Is…is your anxiety playing up because…” Coran frowns nervously. It’s strange, seeing such an un-Coran-like emotion on his face. “Because you like Lance?” 

Hunk almost chokes. God, how did Coran get so perceptive? Was it obvious? Oh god, he’d just crawl into a hole of embarrassment if it was. 

“Uh…Maybe?” He suggests, rubbing his neck; a habit picked up from Lance. 

“I had an inkling.” His voice lowers to the ‘I’m comforting you’ level he uses so often. “I do think you should talk to him.” 

“I know, I know. But what if…what if he hates me?” Hunk sighs, lips drawn in a tight line of discomfort. “What if I ruin everything?!” 

“’What if’s will get you nowhere, my boy.” Coran smiles. From anyone else, he thinks it would sound dismissive, but by Coran, he’s strangely comforted by it. “You have to think about now. What if it goes right? What if he says yes?” 

Hunk looks at Coran, fondness in his eyes, and realises then what a wonderful make-shift family he’s built here.


End file.
